


In the Steam

by jturner36



Series: Doug & Carol - by Jordan Turner [10]
Category: E.R.
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 13:14:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14450028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jturner36/pseuds/jturner36
Summary: I wrote this fanfiction in part to give a glimpse into what I thought might have happened to Doug & Carol in the past, before ER began, and to describe their evening together after the end of "One More for the Road." I am extremely grateful to my editors, Michelle and Ra, who honed this story and helped make it better.





	In the Steam

**Author's Note:**

> The show ER, and all characters and situations borrowed from it, are property of Constant-C, NBC, Warner Brothers, etc. This fanfiction is for entertainment only, and no money is made from it. The story contains graphic scenes and words which may offend some readers, and as such, it is not appropriate for children under 18. This story is not to be archived or distributed without the permission of the author.
> 
> Stories in the series:  
>  A Clean Break; Stages of Ending; Retribution; Covenant; Tap-dance; Free Falling; Blink of an Eye; Vivisection; Keepsakes; In the Steam; Through the Night; Cornerstone; Domesticity; Caretaker; To CH; The Empty Space; Tenderhearted; Intoxicated; The Present; Summit; The Harbor, Part I; The Harbor, Part II; Transition Game; Expectations; Joint Venture; Kiss of Life; Residuum; Aftermath; Letters Never Sent; Wonderful Things; The Mere Fragrance; Walking the Tightrope; Vernal Equinox; Bits of Broken Glass; What it's Not; Ayant Seulement L'Imagination; Culmination; Tidings of Comfort; Parallel Hearts; Visitation Rites; Wee Small Hours; Barometric Pressure; The Emerald City; A Peaceable Start; Mother's Day; Spilling Forth; Significant Other; Doug and Carol

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Even through the darkest phase  
Be it thick or thin  
Always someone marches brave  
Here beneath my skin  
Constant craving  
Has always been  
\- k.d. lang  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

May, 1997

The day had been a busy one, and Carol was glad it was almost over. She really wasn't looking forward to her evening, her date with Toby Mintz. She'd gone out with him twice before, and he was a nice guy, but he wanted more from the relationship than she was willing to give. When the nursing staff got the word on tonight's date, they teased relentlessly. And then Doug! She really hadn't wanted to mention it, but when he asked her to go to Shaw's with him, she had to tell him. After all, he was a good friend. He'd even said what a great guy Toby was, not seeming too concerned.

Her shift was almost over; time for a quick shower, makeup, and her new dress. Carol was making her way past the nurse's station when she glanced up and saw Doug. He had been cradling the phone between his chin and shoulder, trying to make arrangements with DCFS for Charlie, to find suitable shelter and help for her. Anna Del Amico called out to him.

"Doug? Can you come here?"

Doug nodded and then saw Carol. "Hey, Carol? Can you hang on to this for a minute? If they answer, will you hold them for me?"

"Sure," Carol said, and she took the receiver from him.

Carol watched Doug walk down the hall. He'd been so great lately, she thought. So different from before. Back then, the relationship was all heat. She'd been immediately attracted to him, but kept her distance for several months. Good thing, too, as she watched him go through the nurses and x-ray technicians one after the other. He was, however, always circling her, probing her interest, but she steadfastly refused the bait.

But one day, just on a whim, feeling carefree and reckless, she said okay. Okay, Doug, pick me up at seven. Right on schedule, seven o'clock came and there was the doorbell. By seven-oh-two she was in his arms, and by seven-oh-five, her jeans were off and she was coming on the floor of her kitchen. The pattern would be repeated on and off for two years. Then as her interest grew, he grew bored and withdrew from her just enough to keep his distance, close enough to flit back time and again, picking up where he had left off.

Well, that was then, and Toby was now. Carol sat in a chair and brought the phone to her face. She was suddenly aware of something faintly familiar. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. Doug. It was Doug. His aftershave, his skin, his scent, on the receiver. She felt something like butterflies in her stomach and tingling in her hand, a familiar reaction to him. Carol opened her eyes and looked sideways to see if he was still in sight, but he was gone. "Damn," she said quietly, more a comment than a complaint. She hadn't nuzzled to that scent in years, but being so close to it was...disconcerting. Carol sank back in a chair and breathed deeply again. It reminded her of something that happened long ago. The last time they had slept together. "Hum!" she smiled to herself. It's how she described it to Tag, she remembered. That after she'd started dating Tag, she'd slept with Doug.

That euphemism, slept with. There had been no sleep that night, no bed. Carol fiddled with the phone cord, leaned back into her chair, thinking of that last time.

*****

They had just finished working on a young boy at the end of their shift who had been hit by a car. He had a broken femur, but more seriously, a closed head injury. It was a difficult case, because his prognosis was very poor; yet his face, brown and so smooth, was perfect, untouched. Tag had waited around to see if he was needed, and then scheduled emergency surgery. As the boy was wheeled into the elevator, Carol lowered her head, visibly shaken.

"Hey, Carol," said Doug, "You were great in there."

"Ah, Doug, I thought I was immune to all these kids coming in so banged and bruised."

She looked up at him. He smiled, and dropped his head. "Yeah." He cleared his throat. "Well, you have any big plans tonight?"

"Nah, Tag was supposed to come over to fix my garbage disposal, but now he'll be hours with that little boy..." her voice trailed off.

"Carol, how much are you paying in rent? Can't the Super do it?" he asked.

Carol smiled. "Oh, Doug, he's a lecherous old man, I'd rather have a useless sink than deal with him!"

Doug chuckled. "How about...uh... I drive you home and take a look at it?"

"Ah, I dunno." Carol hesitated, looked into his eyes and then glanced away.

"Aw, c'mon, Carol, you can't go without a working sink, can you?!"

Carol relented. "Okay, okay. Let me get my stuff."

The ride to Carol's apartment was quiet. Each was lost in their thoughts of the day's events, the little boy and his fate on their minds. Their close proximity, so foreign now, was hanging heavily between them, an opaque barrier. Carol began to doubt her judgment; Tag really wouldn't like this. She glanced over to Doug and saw he was watching her, too. Carol turned away towards the window.

They arrived at her apartment, and Carol let him in the door. Doug looked around and noticed very little had changed. His eyes fell on some men's shoes in the corner of the living room, and a picture of Carol and Tag on the end table. Carol followed his gaze and looked back at him. "Doug, you want a beer or something?" she asked.

"Nah," Doug replied, "let me get cracking on the sink."

Carol followed him into the kitchen. Doug glanced into the stopped-up sink, then opened the cabinet and crouched underneath, looking at the disposal. "Whatdja put down this thing, anyway?"

"Coffee grounds," Carol answered.

"Well," said Doug, "there's a little button down here, like a kill switch, a reset button, and it was tripped. Let's see." Doug pressed the button and stood up. "That oughta do it," he said, and ran some water in the sink. He then turned on the garbage disposal, and water and coffee grounds spewed into the air, landing on his hair, his arms, his shirt. Leaping, he turned it off and jumped back. "Ahhh!" he yelled. "Dammit, dammit."

Carol dropped her head and laughed, burying her mouth in her hands, her eyes just visible. "Oh, Doug, I'm sorry!" she laughed. "Really! Oh, you're a mess." She tried to compose herself, but giggled, while he just stared at her, dripping. "Well, thanks for getting it going, anyway. How about you go get cleaned up and I'll heat up some take out?" offered Carol. "Do you have a fresh shirt?"

"Yeah, in the car, in my gym bag," said Doug.

"Why don't you get in the shower, and I'll go downstairs and get it."

"Yup, okay," he answered. He walked down the hallway into the bathroom, and peeled his dress shirt off. Rolling it into a bunch, he tossed it into the sink and stripped off the rest of his clothes. Doug pulled the shower curtain back, leaned into the tub and ran the water. As he stepped in to the tub, he paused, keenly aware of Carol's personal items surrounding him. As the hot water ran over his body, he picked up her shampoo and opened it.

He drew the once-familiar smell of her hair into his nostrils, closed his eyes, and breathed it again. Her loofah hung in the same spot he had remembered it to be, and he wondered if it was the same one he had used to gently scrub her soft back. Bath oil and body lotion were haphazardly lined up around the tub. Doug dropped his head and sighed. He had really screwed up. When he looked up again, he saw a man's razor. Tag. Yeah. Tag could come to this apartment, this tub. This woman, the one Doug had once visited. The place he was no longer welcome.

Carol walked back into the apartment with Doug's bag. Halfway down the hall to the bathroom, she heard the shower running and smiled, remembering the searing hot showers Doug preferred. "The bathroom's probably all fogged up by now!" she thought. The door was slightly ajar, and Carol saw soft curls of steam escaping. She opened the door, and was met by the wet air. She laid his gym bag on the floor and turned to leave. But her feet wouldn't move.

She listened to the streams of water, stared at the moving shower curtain. She saw nothing behind it, but heard him sigh. The steam in the room, his clothes scattered on the floor, the curtain separating them, all this assaulted her. Carol bent down and picked up his T- shirt. She slowly raised it up and buried her face in it. A soft "oh" escaped as she breathed deeply. She closed her eyes and gently rubbed the T-shirt to her cheek. What is it about the smell of him, she wondered. Why this craving?

Doug moved forward and let the water pound his body. It had been a mistake to come here. He desired her, but clearly she felt differently. He had no place in her life now, no chance, and this only served to remind him.

He shivered as he felt a sudden chill of cold air, and turned his head to look behind him. He stopped and stared. She had drawn back the curtain and was standing merely feet away. Her hair was tightly coiled from the wet air, her skin dewy and soft. Lips apart and full. Liquid eyes wide with desire. Clothes gone, scattered and draped on the floor, revealing all her loveliness. Never averting her gaze, her eyes challenged his. His body never moved. His eyes, however, were drawn further down, where he saw the familiar curves. Her breasts, soft and full, her pink, turned-up nipples, moving up and down in time with her breathing. The bend of her waist, the blackness of the curly hair hanging softly between her legs. Her body glistened, as though she had waited in the steam forever.

His head tilted slightly as he looked at her, desire and confusion plain on his face. He looked up.

"Carol." A statement, and a question.

No longer the confident, carefree lover, he felt uneasy now. He turned his face away from her, placing his hand on the wall, keeping the front of his body out of view, aware of his arousal. "Carol, I...." His breath uneven, his voice so quiet.

She whispered, "Turn around, Doug."

"I shouldn't be here. I should go."

"I'm coming in. Won't you wait?"

"Carol, don't."

His back still turned to her, she drank in the breadth of his shoulders, the strength beneath his skin. The water streaming over every hard edge of him. The muscles on his back and legs. She ached to press herself against him, smell his skin, be intimate again. She would not turn back. Carol stepped into the tub and stroked his back. Doug's body stiffened, drawing in a quick breath, which then came out in short bursts.

Not yet facing her, his head fell forward as he struggled for composure and control. Carol took the soap, slowly fondling her breasts, encircling her nipples, making them hard. She leaned against him, soft and slippery. She rubbed slowly up and down his body, trying to relieve the throbbing between her legs. He felt the hard points of her nipples caressing his skin, the heat of her body so near. Carol pulled him close, rubbing his body with hers, pushing herself to him. She stroked her chest again, getting her hands soapy. Her arms reached around him and she slowly lathered his chest, his nipples, and worked her way down, searching. His voice barely audible, "Please don't."

Carol whispered softly, spoke slowly. "I want your hands on me...your mouth...I want to feel you inside of me. Doug, don't deny me this."

Doug slowly turned around. They were inches apart. Water streaming everywhere, steam and heat. Doug put his hands on either side of her face and stared into her eyes. The subject of his dreams, the solace he sought at night, the face he tried to conjure up in his memory, here she was, so soft, so sweet and willing. He bent down to gently kiss her lips, wrapping his arms around her, enveloping her. He reached down, running his hands over the curves of her, pulling her closer, pressing his swollen cock against her. A moan escaped from her mouth as she arched into him. Her nipples pressed to his chest, inviting, ripening. She tilted her head back, exposing her neck in submission, splashing water everywhere.

He tasted her skin, his mouth traveling down to the edge of her collarbone, and further, to the fullness of her breasts. He lingered there, licking and sucking, tugging at her nipples with his lips, holding her breasts in his hands, making her moan, and then continued his journey, kissing her waist, all the time talking to her, telling her what he wanted to do, how beautiful she was. Moving downward, he dipped his tongue into her navel, then farther still to the black smudge between her legs, the sweetest place of all. Carol. His mouth searched her, pulling gently at her sensitive lips, his tongue delicately probing her, and he found there a slick reminder of her sexuality. She was already swollen with desire, and her softness overtook him.

"Carol," he breathed. "Can I?"

"Doug...please."

Doug was lost, now wanting what he had renounced. Standing up, he turned her around, running his hands over her. He reached up, cupped her breasts, and rolled her nipples between his thumbs and fingers, squeezing and tugging on each one until she cried out. The longing, the desperation drove him and he bent her forward, reaching again for the pink tenderness of her from behind. He caressed the outside first, feeling it swell even more under his touch. He took one finger, then two, sliding them ever so gently inside her. "Oh, look at you." He found what he was after. The buttery, slippery skin, the wetness he knew so well, beckoned him. He moved his fingers in and out of her while Carol moved with him, imploring him not to stop.

Carol moaned and spread her legs wider. Her arms were stretched out in front of her, hands pressing into the tile, her breasts hung free. Her head was thrown back, hair in ringlets cascading down, her back arched to reach him, waiting for him. She was breathing heavily now, not knowing why she needed this. Knowing just that she did.

Doug took his hands and gently parted her folds, revealing more. Unable to contain his desire any longer, he pressed on, rubbing against her. He pushed into her, feeling the mild resistance of her slick, taut opening, and penetrated her, spreading her apart as she moaned again. Accustomed to a different lover, she had forgotten the size, the feel of him. He whispered her name. "It's hot...and it's wet...and it's tight, Carol." He plunged into the depths of her. Like a drowning man, he clung to her, holding her hips, feeling the roundness of her against his body. She pushed back against him, surrendering control, forgetting Tag, relinquishing herself to the moment, to him.

Doug was lost in a world of his own, memories rushing back to him. He remembered the way she drove his desire, making him defenseless near her. The entangled nights when he felt he could never have enough of her, when he took her just one more time. The emptiness, the ache for her. Closing his eyes in the darkness, embracing other women, pretending they were Carol. He remembered, too, how she liked things and what she needed, how he had wanted to please her. He reached one hand around and searched again in the hair and the folds. He withdrew from her and dipped his fingers into her juiciness, then moving up, finding her spot, his hand sweetly probing, gently encircling, two fingers pressing and then slowly, softly, he stroked in a circular pattern, as he drove into her again, making her gasp, his shaft moving inside of her, waiting for her release.

"Ummm..." she groaned as her movements quickened. Doug's voice was low and urgent, murmuring in her ear.

"Come, Carol. Come 'cause I'm gonna come." Her body obeyed, and as the water poured over them, she poured over him. Her breath sporadic, muscles tensing, he felt her shudder, clamping down around him. Little cries emerged from her mouth, her back arched in pleasure, and Doug closed his eyes, savoring the last moments of her climax.

Doug seized her hips again and thrust deeply, relentlessly renewing his assault. Carol, knowing how vulnerable he was, felt powerful now, wanted a victory of her own. She felt him swell quickly, even more than before. He tried in vain to possess her, to punish her for not needing him, refusing him, for loving Tag. He wanted to own her, to lay his claim on her body, to remove the remnants of Tag from her mind. To hear her lose control, calling out his name again and again, as she had before. 

Pressing her hands against the wall, her breath caught in her throat, she willfully refused to submit. She would not give him this last, and stifled her cry, remaining silent. He became more insistent still, fucking her, angry that the battle would be not be won. No longer in control, he heard himself surrender, begging her, Carol, please, please? The pressure building within him, he finished. Defeated, helpless inside of her, he had lost, and it was he who cried out, as he had for so many nights without her, her name on his lips, her body imprinted on his.

Slowly, quietly, the water silenced, they stared at each other, two rivals after a fight. Neither wanting to back down, neither wanting to admit defeat. Finally, Carol stepped out of the tub, dripping, slowly walking past the towels and scattered clothes, into the coolness of her bedroom. Doug looked after her, shivering. Somehow, he felt humiliated. Bending down, he tore into his gym bag and pulled on shorts and a shirt, stuffed his dirty clothes inside. As he walked down the hallway, past the bedroom door, he knew that it was she who was leaving him behind, having made her final statement. He opened the door, and went out alone into the cold air.

Later that night in her bed, Carol stared through the darkness, Doug still fresh in her mind, fresh in her body. She knew this night had not quenched her thirst for him. She heard Tag come in and felt him lay beside her. "Hey, beautiful," he whispered, "miss me?" Happy to find her naked in bed, he kissed her neck and stroked her arm with gentle fingertips. As he inched closer to her, he pulled her to him and she could feel his hardness pressing into the small of her back. He reached around and tenderly felt for her nipple, now soft and tame, rubbing it with his thumb, encircling it, trying to coax it, awaken it.

"Tag, it's late, go to sleep."

Tag, not to be turned down so quickly, pleaded his case. "Carol, you smell so good, your skin is so soft, c'mon." His hand lightly stroked her hip, her belly, then moved down slowly, towards the coarse hair between her legs, looking for signs of arousal. She pushed his hand away. Carol, knowing what she had done, shamed, could not do this. Not with...she was still wet from Doug between her legs, surely Tag would know. "Go to sleep, Tag," she said, closing her eyes.

*****

When Carol opened her eyes, she took a deep breath and remembered she was in the hospital, holding the phone. Embarrassed, she looked around, trying to determine if anyone had seen her. Three rooms away, through the glass, she saw Doug smiling, gazing at her. Could he see the arousal on her face, did he guess what she was thinking? She knew that Doug, deep in his heart, suspected how she had always felt, that her thoughts got tangled up with him. His words from years ago, the words she was shocked to hear, that she refused to admit to Tag, were true: "Tell him that you don't love me. Tell him that you don't think of me when you're with him." Tag, Shep, and now Toby, all competed with an unseen rival. She matched his gaze, neither one averting their eyes until the voice on the phone interrupted her thoughts. "Thanks for holding, this is Mrs. Jamison, DCFS, is this Docter Ross?"

"Just a minute," she said, "Malik? Can you tell Doug there's a call on three?" Carol pressed the hold button, reached into the desk and drew out rubbing alcohol. Deliberately and slowly, she poured the alcohol over some cotton and cleaned the phone. She quietly replaced the receiver.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
"And if I've built this fortress around your heart  
Encircled you with trenches and barbed wire  
Then let me build a bridge  
For I cannot fill the chasm  
And let me set the battlements on fire"  
\- Sting  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Doug waited in the dark, silently counting the trains overhead. He had no idea what he was doing here, what he expected to see. If she had a nice evening, if Toby stays the night, was he prepared to wait until the dawn? What would he tell her if he could? Of the nights he had spent dreaming of her, of what he would do to give pleasure to her? To please give him another chance? That sometime during their last night together he had fallen desperately in love with her? All inadequate. He tried rehearsing lines in his head, how to say the right thing, how not to be a fool. Here was a man who had no trouble talking in bed, in the dark, where he could once bring Carol to orgasm, praising her body, her lovemaking, each luscious part of her. He'd slowly describe what he wanted to do, what he was doing, how it felt and it would make her squirm, unleashing passionate sounds from her that excited him. Words that came so easily then escaped him now. Now when it was important, he was at a loss.

He heard a car and ducked out of sight. His heart pounded as Carol emerged. He waited for Toby to shut the engine, to open the car door. They would walk into the house, the lights would go on, but one by one, they would be extinguished. Then Doug would know.

Doug watched as Carol waved goodnight, as Toby drove away. He was stunned, filled with relief, with trepidation.

"So, Toby doesn't get to come inside?"

She turned around quickly, startled. "God, Doug, you scared me!"

"Yeah, I was hiding over there by the El track." Doug was nervous, the rehearsed words weren't right, he was quietly panicking.

"Good thing the neighbors didn't see you, they would've called the cops. So what are you doing here?"

Doug was dismayed. Either Carol didn't hear what he had said, or she wasn't playing. He tried again. "So Toby doesn't get to come inside?"

She smiled, catching his meaning, his teasing, volleyed back. "It was only the third date, of course Toby does not get to come inside." Buoyed by her cloaked reference to their first date, to his play on words, his confidence grew. He walked toward her, barely breathing.

"What?" she said, her smile growing, then retreating. "What?"

All words left him. He had no way to tell her. Doug leaned toward her, his lips lightly kissing her. He pulled back, trying to smile, frightened he had made the wrong move, knowing it must have been right. He heard her release her breath, finally, as her eyes questioned him. He made no move, but waited for her. Slowly, tentatively, Carol moved toward him. All the time, all the hurt, all the pain melted away as their lips met again, hungry mouths, so familiar, but so foreign after so much time. Her body felt so right in his arms, her hair just as soft in his hands. He thrilled at the little sounds she made in her throat, he knew she was becoming aroused, just as he was.

Carol gently pulled away, her face flushed, her breath coming quickly. She turned around and unlocked the door, walking in ahead of him and tossing her coat on the sofa, then turned to face him again. "Doug?" She could barely speak.

Doug, so close, didn't move, didn't talk. His heart was pounding, breath coming so fast. He could vaguely see the outline of her nipples through the fabric of her dress. Reaching out one hand, his fingertips caressed her neck, then base of her throat, lightly stroking her. Carol moan quietly. "Mmmm, nice," he whispered. He smiled at her, eyes twinkling, becoming more aroused because he suspected that the black dress was all she had worn this evening. Carol was breathing fast now, her eyes closed, the memories of his lovemaking rushing back to her. Doug drew her into his arms, running his hands down her back, to her hips, and pulled her closer to him.

"So, you haven't forgotten what it was like, have you Carol?"

Carol opened her eyes and released herself from his embrace. Unsure of himself now, confused, Doug stood still. Carol headed slowly towards the bedroom, paused at the door, and turned around. Her eyes were filled with desire, her body hungry for him.

She walked into the bedroom, and he followed, shedding his coat as he went. Her arousal was so complete, her whole body anticipated him. He waited in awe as she shrugged her dress off her shoulders, down her waist, over her hips, finally to her feet. Carol watched his face as she stroked her body, first her hips, then her stomach, two hands passing over her breasts briefly, barely brushing past her nipples, up to her neck, lifting up her hair, arms over her head, stretching like a cat in the sunlight. She sat down on the bed and tilted her head back so she could see him, her hair falling behind her shoulders. She raised her arms, waiting for his embrace. Doug moved closer to her, kissed her cheek sweetly, and knelt between her knees near the bed.

She lay back, spreading her legs, hands on her breasts, pulling her nipples, aching for his warm mouth. "You want me to eat you?" he whispered, his voice warm, low. She looked at him through her lashes and nodded. He softly kissed her inner thigh, moving upward, parting her lips, her hair, anticipating her wetness, her warmth. His mouth on her now, tasting her, feeling her, putting a finger in her, "My," he said, "so soft, so wet." He wanted her to come, he wanted to thrill her. Carol, eyes closed, head back, hands on his hair, pulling him closer still.

Licking, nibbling, his tongue flicked lightly over her. This was too much for her, she tried to move away but he would not let her escape, he knew she was so close. "No," he said, "not yet."

Bending his head down, he began again. He drew her into his lips, into his mouth, sucking her clit tenderly, gently, rhythmically. Carol let out a long, low moan, begging him to stop, trying to push him away, and then she came, over and over again, waves so intense on his hand, on his mouth, never ending, legs tense, her body wriggling. He held her gently, caressing her softly, until she was finished.

Slowly, after a time, Carol laid still, waiting for her body to relax. She opened her eyes and looked at him, still unable to speak. He smiled tenderly, laid down next to her and pulled her close to him. Finally finding her voice, she softly said, "Doug, make love to me."

He looked down at her, not sure how to respond. "Carol, I...I'm not....I'm not ready," he said quietly. She stared up at him, still breathing hard, not understanding. "I wasn't prepared," he continued gently, "I didn't expect...I don't know what I expected, I don't have anything with me."

She was confused, finally finding her voice. "Anything like what?"

He looked away and sighed. "Carol, I don't have any protection, a condom with me."

"And, since when is this important to you? Is there something you need to protect me from?"

He looked at her again. "No, no. It's just since, you know, that time, since then, I would use one. I'm just not prepared." How could he explain what he didn't understand?

"Since what time?"

He struggled now, eyes down, his inability to open himself to her painfully evident by now. "Since the shower. Since our shower."

She took his face in her hands, lifting it, so his eyes were level with hers. She knew what he meant, but she wanted to hear it from him. "Doug, just tell me."

"Carol, that night, I...when we were...together, I never wanted to...I never want to...to need someone...to lose control, to lose myself, and I did, and I couldn't help it. And I didn't want to...to feel that...like that again. I never want to let anyone get that close, that... intimate. And by using one -- I don't know, it would help me to avoid it."

Wary now, feeling betrayed, she looked away. "And...you want to use one now, to avoid closeness? So why are you here, Doug?" She looked back for the answer.

Doug took a deep breath. His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, the words still halting, so unsure of what he could say, a pleading look in his eyes. "I'm not sure, I don't know...what you want. With you, it could be different...I could be that way with you. If you let me, I could lose control...again...with you. I could lose myself to you."

He put his hands on her face, winding a curl around his finger. "Carol, I could give myself to you."

Bending close to her, he kissed her chin, her cheeks, her mouth, slowly at first, so gently. He pressed into her neck, kissing, biting, wanting to feel her again, sucking her nipples, making them hard, making her cry out. His hands between her legs, unable to stop, he spread her wetness onto her clit, over his fingers, and he knew he needed her. She unbuttoned his shirt, his pants; his clothes came off.

Doug began to sit up, ready to cover her with his body, to slide between her legs, but Carol gently pushed him back. "Wait, wait, let me first," she whispered. She laid him back and stroked the length of him, and he softly moaned. Playing with the swollen head, she knew what he wanted, and slowly, gently, surrounded it with her lips, licking it and making it flare in excitement. Carol worked her way down the shaft, alternately sucking and licking, and Doug could barely contain his desire.

He murmured, a low, pleading voice. "Carol."

Carol pulled him close, kissing him, stroking him, feeling him so hard and urgent against her body. He parted her thighs, gazed at her, running his fingers through the moisture, seeing her pink and glistening. Having waited so long, he was unable to hold back anymore. He pressed against her, needing to relieve this pressure, to feel her warmth envelop him. Without waiting he rubbed against her and pushed his way into her, feeling her saturated skin on his. She was so velvety, so drenched. "Oh, God, Carol." He closed his eyes, moving, slowly sliding in and out, burying himself, surrounded by her now, telling her how good she felt, how he loved it, how wet she was.

Caught up in the moment, his emotions unchecked, he found that he could not restrain his passion, and, thinking only of himself, he grabbed her legs. He pulled them apart, wider, resting her ankles on top of his shoulders, her knees at his elbows, he wanted all of her. He thrust into her, bending her, pressuring her until she whimpered, she was overcome by his strength, his urgency. But he couldn't stop, all he had ever wanted was here. He sank deeply into her, wanting to relish her, making her gasp. On the edge now, immersing body and soul, he abandoned himself and his inhibitions. He heard her cry out again, opened his eyes and saw the distress on her face. Collecting himself, he became aware of her anxiety. It was not as he had intended it, his desperation had taken over. He, usually so gentle, had not been gentle with her.

"Carol, I'm sorry, sweetheart, I'm sorry," he said, and he softly disentangled her legs from his arms, gently laying her back. Once again the tender lover, he bent over to kiss her softly.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked.

"Mmm."

"I'm sorry, if I was rough, I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay, I'm fine," she smiled. "You weren't rough." She had almost forgotten how it felt to be with him, how they abandoned everything together. Neither Tag nor Shep had ever made her feel so wanted, so feminine, so desirable or enjoyed.

Doug kissed her neck, breathing in the smell of her hair, and sucked each pointed nipple so gently. He began to move slowly again, sweetly, feeling Carol move underneath him. He made love to her, gazing down at her face, watching her breasts bounce gently with his motion, her eyes closed in pleasure. She arched up against him once again, and he pulled her to him, wanting her close. Carol wrapped her legs around him, making sweet noises, and this aroused him even more. He felt himself getting closer and closer, the pleasure, the sensation of her heat and the movement of her hips urging him on. A low groan rumbled in his throat as he felt the pressure building way down inside of him. His leg muscles tensed, he closed his eyes and relinquished every last bit of control. His whole body shuddered and he felt himself coming, shooting from deep within him, through his shaft and swollen tip. He groaned with pleasure, filling her with warmth, whispering her name in wonderment, finally satisfied after years of longing, years of waiting for her. The pleasure, the fulfillment of this moment with this precious woman surrounded him; she satisfied him as no other woman ever could. Savoring the moment, trying to prolong the pleasure, he slowed down, his strokes less urgent as he became relaxed. He gathered her into his arms and held on to her, afraid she would disappear, just as she had done in his dreams. He looked down at her, and tenderly brushed the hair from her face. Not yet convinced she was okay, he lifted her face to his, smiling while he looked into her eyes.

"Carol," he said, "that was wonderful. You felt wonderful."

She smiled too, enjoying the warmth of him, the feeling of being wrapped in his arms. Not quite sure what would come next, she posed the question, "Doug, will you stay?"

"If you'll let me."

"I'll let you."

Both of them satisfied, they held each other, neither one wanting to be the first to let go.

The End


End file.
